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Canadian Thanksgiving
October 14, 2019

Oh, how I love this time of year
When we do pause to think, and peer
At reasons to be thankful e'er
With such fine folk, who live "up there"

In Neighbor to our north, so grand
Which dwells on moist and fertile land.
For they give thanks one month ahead
Of us in States, perhaps to shed

The chance that snow might interfere.
It matters not, but oh, what cheer
To think of them, 'round tables fine...
So full of feasts on which to dine.

I wish some day to travel yon,
And celebrate with them at length,
And then return to homeland's lawn,
And celebrate again with strength.

I think of afternoons in theirs,
Are they observing football's cares?
Are they like us, who sometimes nap?
Do other customs overlap

Thanksgiving Day in Canada?
Oh, make me, please, Ambassador!

© Paul L. White

 

President Jimmy Carter
95th Birthday
October 1, 2019

How oft I wonder how so strong
Your mind remains, as I do long
To have your attitude of peace.
For all *I* want is fierce release

From torment, rage, and bold attack!
I ponder long: "what do I lack
"For seeing those who torture me
"As something less than enemy?"

Somehow you could, and did, in fact,
With Begin, Anwar in their pact.
And still you live in harmony
With Rosalynn, sweet reverie.

If I could be a sim'lar man,
And calm my sometimes tortured soul
Which screams at foolishness of man...
Perhaps I, then, would be made whole!

© Paul L. White

 

September 11, 2019


Thadda bum ... thadda bum ... thadda bum ...

In just two days it will arrive
When we, so pleased to be alive,
Do stand, and pause, rememb'ring cause
That works to silence all applause.

Thadda bum ... thadda bum ... thadda bum ...

Like hearse on wheels, the doom and gloom
Do roll our way, and bring the tomb
Which stills our mirth, creates a dearth
Of child-like joy upon the earth.

Thadda bum ... thadda bum ... thadda bum ...

Our hearts do scream for brief relief
From dread, and paralyzing grief.
Each year it comes, though, without end
As we refuse to ever bend

Our staunch determination's will
To think it wrong to taste the swill
Of hatred from another shore.
And we determine, more and more,

To stem the tide, within our pride,
Of hatred t'ward another's ride
Through life, though it quite different be
From what we know, 'tween me and thee.

Thadda bum ... thadda bum ... thadda bum ...

It isn't easy, showing love...
For some, we take it from Above.
We march along, from banks to banks,
With heartfelt praise for Love's sweet "thanks."

© Paul L. White

This poem was written and published on Facebook September 9, 2019. I posted it two days ahead of the actual Patriots Day date in order that it might lessen, just a little, the grieving that would take place when that date arrived. Warm regards.

 

Ross Perot
July 9, 2019
Missing You!


So much love! 'Twas little known
That deep within our group was sown
A love for all who did partake
In pondering, for Nation's sake,

The ways to help our fortunes rise,
The ways to bring sweet Freedom's prize;
Remembering the soldiers who
Did die, protecting brilliant hue

Of having choice. Ah, 'tis so sad
It had to end, then--what we had.
And how I wish the world had known
The love, so thick, our group was shown!

© Paul L. White

I had the privilege of working with the Ross Perot Petition Committee in 1992, starting on the first day of its operation. It was both a privilege, and an education, and stirred within me a love of politics.

What I've tried to indicate, in this poem, is a sense of the great, thick love that permeated the offices where we worked. It felt like you could physically touch it. It's something I trust I'll never forget.

Here's to Mr. Perot's service and memory.

 

Cynthia Basinet
May 19, 2019
Happy Birthday!


Cynthia at the Waldorf February 20, 2012
Shortly after her father had passed away.

How I long to hear your song
Once again in midst of throng
Which oft does cheer, admitting clear
That here ... is where, Ma'am ... you belong:

Up on stage, with words so sage
As to Wisdom's firm approach
To all that enter Life's great rage,
Deflecting those who Peace encroach.

Ah, the stress does dissipate
When we do hear your soulful tone.
Ah, the joy to ruminate
Instead of suffering Living's drone.

Thank you for your melody
That takes us to our rhapsody.
Thank you for your gentle touch,
That we may beams of kindness clutch.

© Paul L. White

 

Doris Day

April 3, 1922 May 13, 2019


Photo Credit: Guideposts, April 18, 2013

You stood so grand, and statuesque,
With smile that beamed from East to West,
And showed us all that "tender," "sweet"
Were okay words to make complete

Our roles in Life, which sometimes tears
Apart beliefs a young one wears.
Oh, you lived long, with health so fine;
'Twould burst in song with joyful line.

Unruffled mind you'd tend to bring;
"Sera, sera" is what you'd sing.
But we cannot forsake this news
Unmoved, for with your loss we lose

The hope-filmed beam that was your Grace.
Thus, we will walk with slower pace
And think of you, so far beyond
The earth's great girth, the ocean's pond,

Into a place where folk like you
Abound, while here they are so few!

© Paul L. White

 

Mother's Day
2019


Photo Credit: Wayne Evans from Pexels

Mom, more and more, I miss you so
Whene'er it's time to ponder
My life with you and your sweet glow...
So is it any wonder

That my tears begin to seep
When I reflect on virtue
'Twas yours you gave in all our keep,
Not caring what might hurt you?

You always ate the chicken's back,
And left good pieces for us--
Your children, lest we'd suffer lack.
So now, please hear this chorus

Of Love and Adoration's air,
Sung to the edge of Heaven.
Oh, may it's feeling reach you there,
Without a touch of leaven.

And Mom, again, I miss you so,
For pain will always, ever flow
When you're not here to take my hand,
And make this earth more fertile land!

© Paul L. White

 

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This page edited on 10/16/2019
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